La Cerise
by La Petite Squelette
Summary: Violet, a Marenite heiress, is sent to Tortall as a spy. A mission that was once simple becomes complicated with a new romance, and Violet finds that when power-hungry kings are involved, tragic consequences aren't far behind.
1. Chapter 1

I just wanted to clear a few things up before the story really gets started... I kind of pictured Violet's Maren like the Southern plantations pre-civil war/abolition of slavery... and her accent the accompanying charming drawl. I'm just not sure how well I describe that... :)

Disclaimer: I don't own... most of this. Tamora Pierce does... and I'm jealous.

465 H.E.

The day was one of those heart-breakingly lovely late summer days. A slight breeze rustled the boughs of the cherry trees. The fruits had all been picked just a few weeks earlier, and were now being mashed and mixed into luxurious wines and dyes. This beauty, though, did not register in my mind as I flew through the deserted orchards, a dark blur, searching for the perfect tree to climb up into.

Under normal circumstances, I was called Violet L'Cerisier, but at the moment I only felt as part of the breeze, the trees, the soil... I did not particularly want to be Violet at the moment. So I ran.

Eventually I began to slow down, and at last I stopped running, choosing a sturdy tree to clamber up. Finally I became still, curled up in the fork formed by two thick branches. I became Violet again, and began to think. Absentmindedly plucking a stray cherry and placing it between my lips, I related to myself the events of the morning.

The morning had begun as usual. I had been woken by Clarita's soft, firm hand shaking me awake. When I finally rolled out from under the blankets, the Carthaki woman shook her head and said, as she had every morning for the past eleven years, "Miss Vi, one o' these days you're gonna get married, an' you won't have dear old Clarita to rouse you, and you'll be late to all your appointments!"

And I had said, as I had every morning for the past eleven years, "You're not old, Clarita, I'm just a lot younger 'an you. An' if I do miss all my 'pointments, they'll just say, oh, there goes ol' Vi again, missin' all her 'pointments, and no one will be able t'say I warn't bein' myself."

But of course, I'd always get dressed and pad down to the breakfast room, where a little plate of toast with cherries baked into it, cherry jelly, and a little glass of diluted cherry juice would be waiting. There was always a surplus of cherry products in the weeks after harvest, even with most of the goods being shipped out to other lands. After a few weeks I would start to gag at the sight of the dark red stuff, but I was not at that point yet and was still enjoying all of the sweet food.

The L'Cerisier plantation in Southern Maren was the cheif producer of Sangria Cherries and the resulting byproducts, such as wine, dye, pastries, and too many other dark red products to count. Nobles all over the world enjoyed the beautiful, delicate, blood-red cherries, but nowhere else in the world were the cherries able to grow so lavishly. My family had gone from dirt poor to filthy rich in a matter of fifty years or so.

It had all started with my grandfather planting two cherry trees on the small farm he lived on with his wife and only son, my father. As the trees gave such wonderful results, my grandfather started selling the cherries, and over the years that sapling of a business grew into a vast forest. Those two original trees still stood out front of the sprawling mansion which had once been a modest farmhouse for three.

But, although we were rich beyond belief, my father still had not attained the one thing he sought; nobility. And I would soon find out that he would resort to almost anything to gain the title of Lord of Cerisier.

I finished my breakfast before anyone else came downstairs, then slipped onto the patio that was just off the breakfast room. I picked from a basket my soft leather slippers, a small round hat that my father insisted on us girls wearing in public, and a light wool wraparound jacket, as it was crisp and cool outside. After doing this, I padded out onto the dirt road that wound its way through our vast plantation, more of a town, really. The trees still were covered in little red dots (picking the orchards clean would be unhealthy for the trees and the people, and would take much too long), and I jumped up to pick a particularly juicy-looking one that dangled from a low branch. Soon the road widened into the main part of town, where all the houses, shops, and artisan workshops were. There were as many artisan slaves and servants at Cerisier as field workers, sculpting beatiful cherry-wood furniture, sewing lavish, dark red clothing, and blowing the famed and unique Cerise glass.

About ten years ago one of the wine batches had been boiled at too much heat, and when they had cooled, did not stay at the watery consistency of wine, but had instead turned hard. My father had been raving mad until he had realized the potential of the glassy material. He had bought as many glassblowers as he could and began making the beautiful red glass. Now no lady of worth in the eastern lands could be taken seriously unless she had at least one piece of the glassy jewelry.

I made my rounds as I did almost every morning, looking in on my friends and admiring the work of the artisans. Soon, too soon, I knew it would be time to go home and attend my lessons in being a 'proper lady'.

This morning, though, as I walked into the music room, Mlle. Burcet was not waiting at the cello for me to learn another scale; instead, my father was sitting in an armchair by the window, admiring a doily sewn by my sister, Iolanthe. When he saw me walk in, he gestured at the armchair across the small coffee table from him. So, I sat. No one disobeys Blaise L'Cerisier, not even his daughter.

My father was a handsome, imposing man, his thick chestnut hair showing no signs of silver as yet. Today, he looked pleased about something, his curly mustache curved up and his bright blue eyes clear and happy, though they could become as cloudy and dark as the clouds before a lightning storm. He had always been volatile, but had become even more so after my mother's death, when I was nine years old. But that was six years ago, and although she was missed, life had gone on without Adalia L'Cerisier.

I sat with my hands folded in my lap, my expression polite and demure, waiting for what he had to say. Finally, he set the doily down and looked up at me. "Your sister has quite the skill with a needle."

"Why, yes. She has always had more patience than I or Vignette for the detailed work." My accent lost much of its character when I was around my superiors, that much I knew and was glad for. The well bred folk my father often brought to the house would not appreciate the 'local charm' coming out in the voice of a young woman who was supposed to be as fragile and cultivated as the impractical cherry trees that did not bear fruit, only blossoms, the trees that grew in our greenhouse.

My father studied my face, which I had been told looked much like my mother's, what with the auburn hair, mossy green eyes, and high forehead, before speaking again.

"Violet, I have some good news for you. You'll be presented in the Tortallan Court by the end of the month, and you will stay there for quite a while. Hopefully, you'll find a noble husband."

I'm afraid to say that a very un-lady like expression crossed my face. I'm certain my mouth hung open for a second before I managed to close it.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"That's right." He beamed, as if I were squealing with joy, which, I must assure you, I was not. "A noble lady, presented in the court of a grand and powerful country. Vignette will be doing the same in Carthak, and Emilo in the Copper Isles." He sobered a bit. "Now, there is a development with our gracious King Iven. He has contacted me, and wishes the three of you to, ah... pay attention and write often, especially when concerning the affairs of their Majesties of Tortall."

It took me a moment to register what he was saying. He was still smiling, but his eyes were elsewhere, and I knew I'd be able to think a moment before giving a suitable response.

King Iven of Maren wanted me to spy on the monarchs of Tortall. And report. To him. What he would do with that information, I did not know.

Vignette, my sister two years older than I, would be doing the same in Carthak, and Emilo, my younger brother, in the Copper Isles. I felt as if I could not breathe.

Of course, I had to say yes. Iven was a finicky king, prone to shout treason at tiny things, although he was clever. And after all, I had a duty to my country. It had served my family and I well, and it was time to show my gratitude. I refused to think any more on it, composed myself, and said to my father, "Of course. I would be honored to serve my noble sovereign. When do I depart?"

After hearing details that did not stick to my memory, I excused myself and ran to the orchards, seeking comfort among the trees who did not ask me to do things I did not want to for reasons I did not understand.

As twilight began to reach across the sky, I lowered myself from my perch, a practiced maneuver I had been skilled at since I could walk. I was proud of my long muscles. It set me apart from the other heiresses, made me feel stronger. Right now, I could use all the inner strength I could get, to face my father and siblings with a smiling face. I was sure Vignette would be completely composed as always, whatever she thought about everything, and Emilo would be truly excited, not seeing the dangerous consequences of the task the king would have set him.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed... more to come, soon. Please review, it would make me so happy :)


	2. Chapter 2

Those three weeks allotted to me before the departure passed quickly. I would be in Tortall with my two best friends, Olympe and Letje, sent out for the same reason but not burdened with the same task. They, too, were heiresses with fathers and mothers seeking noble titles. Olympe was a rich merchant's daughter, with a fleet of trade ships in her inheritance. Letje's family ran a large cotton plantation, and worked closely with my family creating beautiful red garments. Olympe was a tall, fair girl with white-gold curls cascading down her back, while Letje was her opposite, small with jet black hair and olive-toned skin. I supposed I was somewhere in between, an average height with auburn hair and decently colored skin, still showing a golden glow left over from summer.

Three slave girls I'd grown up with, Amalie, Desdemona, and Capucine, would be coming along as my attendants. This would really be the first time we would have to step into the roles of mistress and slaves with each other. I hoped it would not fray the bonds between us. Amalie and Desdemona were Carthaki, though they looked very different. Amalie was not _fair, _exactly, but neither was she ebony. Somewhere in between, I'd say. Her light brown hair floated down her back, held in a loose braid. She was a tiny thing, and dark gold freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. Desdemona was from the Southern tribes, with ebony skin and wiry hair cropped close to her head. When she laughed, her usually somber lips cracked open to reveal shockingly white teeth, and when she laughed, she would throw her head back and laugh and laugh until she had had her fill of the rich sound that came from her throat. Otherwise, she did not speak much, but everything she said I valued.

The journey from the Marenite port city of Ritten to Tortall's Port Cayne took a month and a week, maybe a bit more, maybe a bit less. I stopped counting after the second week.

King Iven still had not contacted me. I did not expect him to - at least, not until I had reported to him and reminded him of my presence in Tortall. I sighed, the breath in front of me creating a small cloud. It was surprisingly chilly in Tortall- crisp. I wrapped my jacket even tighter around myself as our boat pulled up to the gangway and our trunks were unloaded. We would not make our grand entrance until tomorrow night, when we would descend the grand staircase into the grand ballroom of the grand country of Tortall... I was sick of hearing of grand things. I just wanted to be back home in my very not grand bed with my comfortable, not grand blankets wrapped around me.

As our carriage was pulled through Port Cayne, though, I could not help but gaze in awe at all the colors around me. I had not realized before how little of the world I had seen.

We pulled up to yet another boat, and I could not help the groan that came out of my throat. Boats felt.. restrictive. I was relieved when the driver reassured me that the journey would only last a few hours. Corus was not all that far away, he said.

The riverboat was pleasant enough, but I was itching to get to the palace and finally settle myself again. I was finding that as much as I loved seeing the sights rewarded by travel, I was not a born wanderer at heart. I liked to have my roots set firmly in the ground.

I did not pay attention to the rest of the events of that night. I was too tired. By the time our carriage pulled into the nicer stables, I was somewhere else, far away, where, I knew not. All was a blur as my trunks were taken to me and a brusque woman led me through twisting passageways up to my room. One sight did stay in my head, though; that of a dark haired, bright eyed young man looking on in amusement as the woman pulled me along the confusing hallways.

* * *

Sorry it's so short... there wasn't really another good place I could break between chapter two and three, ye know? Also, I want to apologize if the plot is going slowly... nothing has happened yet, but that much is obvious, I guess. I spice it up in chapter three, not to worry :)

Reviews would make me happier than if someone were to walk up to me, right now, and offer me an apple pie ;)


	3. Chapter 3

That night I slept surprisingly comfortably. The sheets smelled of lavender and my bed was soft, softer than anything I'd ever slept on before. I was woken by the soft light of dawn on my face, warm and gentle. It took me a moment to realize where I was, but as I cast my eye around the room and saw the small crest of Tortall carved into the stone above the fireplace, it dawned on me again.

Tonight I was to be presented at court, bustled among courtiers, dancing, participating in shallow chit chat...

"Eurg." The groan came from my mouth in a croak. I needed a glass of water.

I felt like a newborn kitten, crawling out of my bed and stumbling across the room, crying "Capucine... Nana, please..." I called Capucine Nana and she called me Lettie, while everyone else called her Cappa and me Vi. It was our declaration of sisterhood.

She opened the door, smiled and laughed, and helped me to the small drawing room of my quarters. She brewed tea while I slumped on a small chaise, completely and utterly dazed and confused.

"Nana... I don' 'member gettin' into bed las' nigh'." She only laughed more, and continued brewing the tea. She handed me one mug and gripped another in her hands as she curled into an armchair close to me.

"I think you fell asleep while we were still in the hallways. You were very tired." She smiled slyly.

We sat a few minutes more in comfortable silence, sipping the sweet, milky tea. Finally, I had to ask.

"What... what sorta' things do I have to do today?" I was dreading hearing of countless appointments and fittings.

"Well... nothin', I suppose. Although ye might want to walk round a bit, jus' to get an idea of your surroundings. We don' want you to get lost."

And so after a while I dragged myself up, pulled on a simple black and white skirt and a dark green blouse and set out into the hallways, hoping I wouldn't so lost as to not get back in time to get dressed for the ball.

I did, of course, become hopelessly lost, though not altogether desperately. At one point I turned a corner and found myself in a fairly large room. It was beautiful; one wall consisted entirely of green-tinted glass that looked out on the royal gardens. The rest of the room was like a small ballroom, devoid of anything except for a small piano on a section of elevated floor.

The room was deserted, so I cautiously made my way to the piano. It was a beautiful creation, gleaming, smooth ebony, with creamy ivory keys. The instrument was popular in Maren; but it was still new there, the place of its invention. This one must be remarkably fresh, weeks old, at the most. I might be the first one to ever play it.

I sat down at the bench and brushed my fingers along the smooth keys. They felt like silk. I began to play a simple tune, albeit beautiful. The song was made for the instrument, and although I did not give it justice, the piano had a sweet, rich sound.

I played, who knows how long, enjoying the sound, the music becoming louder, less guarded, as I forgot where I was. I was so absorbed in my own little musical world that I did not notice when he came up behind me.

I don't know how long he was there. When I paused in my playing a moment, he made his presence known by saying, "Beautiful. You are very talented."

He chuckled as I jumped and whipped my head around. I made a small half curtsy in my seat, then gestured to the bench next to me. Even startled, I was still a lady. "Would you like to sit down...?"

"Jasson. I would be honored, thank you."

"My name is... Violet. You're very welcome. I'm sorry about the volume, I lost myself for a moment there." His casual manner surprised me.

"Oh, don't be sorry. I quite enjoyed it. This piano was just shipped from Maren, it arrived yesterday... if I may be so bold to assume from your accent, you are also new from Maren? I've not seen you around the palace before."

I laughed quietly, amused. "You would be correct in assuming that, sir. Yours is a beautiful palace."

He pursed his lips, just for a moment, then smiled again. "Thank you. The Queen has done much in the way of renovation; there is much to boast of, in my opinion." He cast his eyes around the room a moment, then brought them back to my face. "Violet, you seem to know the piano very well. I was wondering if you might teach-"

"Excuse me-" A servant in livery had just come running through the door, breathless. He looked at Jasson, then at me, then back at Jasson. "Excuse me, your-" He began again, only to be interrupted by Jasson holding up a hand to stop.

"Thank you, I shall attend to the business right away. You can run along now; I'm sure you've got other chores to do." He sighed, then turned back to me, dropping his suddenly strong and imperious voice for the quieter and more expressive tone of before. To be quite frank, it startled me.

"It has been quite a pleasure meeting you, Violet. I really, genuinely hope to see you again soon. Maybe at tonight's ball...?" He raised an eyebrow. I nodded. He smiled and stood up, walking away slowly.

"Wait, Jasson-" I called, suddenly and unexpectedly, even to myself. "I... I enjoyed meeting you to."

He smiled and nodded. "We'll just have to meet again soon, I suppose." Then he left.

I sat, my hands limp in my lap, thinking about that strange meeting. He was very handsome, and charming. He had dark blue eyes and hair black as coal... quite dashing. He seemed to express a genuine interest in me. I would look for him at the ball tonight.

I saw through the glass wall that the sun had sunk lower, and so I began to made my way back to my room to prepare for the ball.

* * *

A couple of things. With the piano, as I was writing I realized that Tamora Pierce had never mentioned pianos in any of her books before, so just to be safe I took a little liberty in when and where it was invented :)

Also, the song Violet is playing is supposed to be Clair de Lune. I love it so much, and I though it would be perfect for this scene.

EDIT: Yay! I finally fixed the repeating chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Here we go. Sorry it took me a couple of days, you all know how it is with school and all. :)

As for my lovely, patient, kind commentors, thank you! So much! You cannot even imagine the extent of my gratitude right now. I hadn't even noticed those things... I'm new to the site and I didn't quite realize I had anonymous commentors disabled. Also, all of the story so far I have written on Google Docs (and you can't download directly from Docs...), and so I've been going through this really complicated copy-and-paste thing with multiple documents and... erg. Yeah.

I'll have that chapter three repeat thing fixed in a jiff. As for the anonymous commentors, I've enabled that and all is well. Thank you so, so much!

Oh, yes, I nearly forgot... 'Cough, cough'. I do not own the fantastical world of Tortall. Tamora Pierce does. _*Wistful sigh*_

* * *

As soon as she found me Capucine grabbed my arm and dragged me into the powder room of Olympe's suite, where Olympe and Letje were being primped and preened. Desdemona saw me, set her mouth in grim determination, then her and Amalie stripped off my clothes, leaving me in only my loincloth and breastband. Capucine began heating a curling iron in the fire while Amalie began brushing my hair and Desdemona scrubbed my face. Olympe and Letje were receiving similar treatment.

They curled my hair so that it hung in huge, loose ringlets down my back, painted my face so that my lips were red and shimmering, my eyes dusky and alluring, my cheeks glowing with a blush that I didn't naturally have, and my skin smooth and glowing (not to mention raw) from the scrubbing. My auburn locks were held back from my face with a thin wooden headband made of dark cherry wood.

My gown was a dark red satin piece, tight at the bodice with an alarmingly low neckline, the bell shaped folds of the skirt gathered just above my hips. Silver vines were embroidered along the bodice and in spots along the skirt. I fastened on my favorite necklace, a cerise glass pendent in the shape of a naturalistic heart which hung on black velvet.

Capucine pushed me in front of a mirror, and I was stunned to see myself. I looked... beautiful. I absolutely glowed. I smiled timidly at my reflection and gave a twirl, then stood aside for Letje to admire herself.

Both Olympe and Letje looked stunning as well, Letje glowing with a soft light in a pale yellow dress of the softest cotton, and Olympe looking like a goddess of water, the green-blue folds of her skirt flowing down her lengthy legs like a waterfall. At last, we were ready to go.

* * *

We followed a stream of primped up maidens not unlike ourselves to a modest hallway, two great, looming doors at the end of the hallway. A kindly looking man in livery stood near the doors surveying the girls waiting in line to be announced and descend down the grand stair.

Apparently we were just in time; no sooner had we gotten there than the first maiden prepared to descend the stair. I saw the man talking to her confidentially, as if he were assuring her. She did look nervous. He seemed to be a very kind person, to take the time to talk to her.

Olympe was the first of us. She set her shoulders back, chin up, and gathered her skirts to sweep down, no doubt, elegantly and completely composed. I wished I felt as confident. The man cleared his throat;

"Miss Olympe Durante of Maren." Olympe smiled and swept through the doorway. A minute passed before the man waved Letje up. She seemed nervous, and he whispered a few words of encouragement. She smiled back at him, took a deep breath, and;

"Miss Letje Moreaux of Maren." As soon as Letje was out those doors I stepped up. I wanted that minute to prepare myself.

The man looked at me, studying my face.

"Are you nervous?" He seemed genuinely curious.

I hesitated. "...yes." I stared straight ahead. "But I'll manage."

He chuckled, under his breath. "I'm sure you will."

Twenty seconds later, he told me it was time.

"Miss Violet L'Cerisier of Maren."

I wasn't prepared for the multitude of colors, lights, and all the _people._ Ther_e _were so many bodies in that grand ballroom... it was so gods cursed grand that I'm afraid I almost up and turned around, right there, and walked back up the staircase. Thankfully, I think I gained my composure quickly... I hope. At least, I was able to walk down the stairs without tripping on my skirts.

I walked, excuse me, _glided _up to the thrones of their majesties King Jonathan and Queen Thayet of Tortall. I gave them my best Southern Maren curtsy (the best in the realm!), then faded into the crowd, thankfully. Three more girls were announced, one Tusaini and two young Tortallan ladies, before the music began.

A young, nervous looking lord with fair hair and freckles approached me for the first dance, which I accepted. He barely talked the entire time, and at the end I curtsied to him and went in search of Letje. I had already spotted Olympe; she had a considerable amount of admiring moons orbiting her.

As I wove through the crowd I felt a light touch on my elbow, and turned around. Jasson smiled at me, coyly.

"I must say, Miss L'Cerisier, you do look ravishing tonight." I giggled. I couldn't help it.

"I would say the same, but I don't know what to call you! I can hardly address you by your given name in this setting." I put on an innocent look. I was curious about him; who was he?

But he only winked one blue eye. "Oh, but you can, and you will. I'm Jasson. Ah would also like to request the honor of dancin' with such a pretty lady." He put on such an outragous Marenite accent, I could only nod and laugh.

The dance was a country line dance, which gave us little opportunity for conversation. But the next song was slower and slightly more somber, and he pulled me back onto the floor before I could protest. I was finding I really enjoyed his informal manner; it reminded me of being back home.

He studied my face, then asked, casually, "So what brings a pretty young thing like you to the Tortallan court? We're glad to have you here, but... surely King Iven has a court of his own?" He was earnest.

I decided to answer mostly truthfully... leaving a bit out. "My father has high ambitions. The Marenite nobility isn't as, well... _noble _as the Tortallan, or Carthaki, or Tusaini. You see, he wishes to marry his children into the nobility. My sister is in Carthak and my brother in Tusaine. We're filthy rich, but he doesn't see that as enough."

Jasson nodded. "That happens a lot here, too. If your family is not noble, though, how did they gain their status?"

"Have you ever eaten a Sangria cherry?" He nodded, then awareness dawned on his face. "We are the main producers of the Sangria cherry and its byproducts: the wine, the glass, the dye, the wood... it's a monopolized industry, really. A shame." I smiled at him.

He whistled, impressed. "So your family is to blame for my favorite drink, and my sisters' obsession with a certain color of jewelry and dress?"

That made me laugh; he looked so comically astonished. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Oh, it is the bane of my existence." He made his voice high and girly. "'Jasson, come tell me if this red makes my skin glow, Jasson, where did my cherry beads go, Jasson-"

"Excuse me, Jasson." This voice was deeper and male.

Jasson coughed and blushed slightly, then glared at the man who was very like him in appearance; the thick black hair and features, except the man's eyes were golden brown.

The man chuckled- he looked about the same age as Jasson, maybe a bit older. He had a light, expressive voice.

"I was wondering, Jasson, if I might dance with the lovely lady a few minutes, seeing as you've had her for three dances." I raised my eyebrows at this. I hadn't noted the time passing, although I suppose that was very likely. I became so distracted when I was with Jasson, I was finding.

"Of course- if it's alright with her." He raised an eyebrow and addressed me. "You know, you really don't have to dance with my barbaric brother if you don't want to."

I laughed, but otherwise ignored him. "I would be delighted...?"

"Liam of Conte, but you can call me Liam."

Conte... where had I heard that before? I dismissed it from my head. No need to worry about trifling trivia now.

Liam was funny also, but didn't have the same devilish charm as his brother. He seemed boyish, albeit he was a year older than Jasson. I danced two dances with him then went to find Letje.

I never did find Letje; instead I was accosted by an alarming amount of over-eager young (and some uncomfortably old) lords. For whatever reason, they had stayed away before but were now clambering to dance with me. By the end of the night I was exhausted, and when the ball was over I stumbled, once again, half asleep through the halls of the palace.

I don't really remember how I got back to the room. I think Desdemona must have found me- I remembered a flash of black hair and a strong arm buoying me along through the halls.

* * *

I woke up late again and stumbled to the drawing room of my suite, where a still-hot cup of tea waited for me. As I sat and sipped Olympe and Letje, both bedraggled and still in their nightgowns, came in through the connecting doors and sat down near me.

We sat in silence a minute, then Letje started giggling, then me, then Olympe joined in until we were all laughing so hard our stomachs hurt. At last we quieted, and began gossiping like old women.

Olympe had danced with almost every eligible bachelor in that ballroom, and Letje had met a sweet boy who hadn't strayed far from her side the entire dance.

Olympe looked at me a moment and whistled. "Very nice work, Vi. Two princes in one night. All the other primped up little Tortallan ladies were green with envy."

I was confused at her comment. "Princes? I don't remember..." Then realization dawned on me. "You mean, Prince Jasson and Prince Liam of Conte?"

She beamed at me. "Oh yes, that is exactly what I mean. They were both enamored with you! Don't get too close to Liam, though; it's rumored that he's going to be betrothed to the new queen of the Copper Isles. Jasson, though, he is as charming as his father is rumored to have once been."

I nodded, then asked Olympe to detail every one of her admirers, and tell me which one was her favorite. That kept her busy and away from the topic of the princes. I needed to think on that point.

It seemed that we had nothing to do again, so I roamed the halls until I found the library. I wandered down the rows, flipping through book after book, distracted. Why would Jasson hide his being royalty from me? It just didn't make sense.

At last I decided to go back; there was another ball tonight. It would be smaller than last night's, though, for which I was thankful.

* * *

Thank you guys for your patience in me blundering my way through all the technical difficulties. :)


	5. Chapter 5

I feel like I've just been caught with my hand in the cookie jar, or some such... not wuite the same crime, but all the same, I feel embarrassed and guilty and chagrined.

Full apology at the end of this small chapter...

And still, the glorious realms of Tortall does not belong to me, but to that goddess of fiction, Tamora Pierce.

* * *

This night, Capucine dressed me up more modestly than before; my hair was pinned up at the nape of my neck and I wore a pretty cotton dress in a pleasantly cool shade of green with small sunflowers embroidered in black along the hem and neckline. Dark red beads on a thread were woven through my hair. Musn't let the Tortallans forget the source of my wealth.

There was no need for a grand entrance tonight, and there was a dinner before the dancing, so we made our way to the dining hall without ceremony. I was glad; this was much less stressful than last night.

As we entered the hall and sat down I looked for Jasson. I wanted to talk to him about his strangeness. I spotted him soon enough; he was at the head table, sitting alongside the King and Queen. Liam was there also, along with two other girls with similar looks; the handsome faces, the dark hair. They must be the princesses, I thought.

Although I tried earnestly to catch Jasson's attention, it seemed that he was avoiding eye contact with me, entirely. Try as I might, it always seemed that he was on the other side of the room from me, chatting with some group that I didn't know and couldn't very well join. I admit, I could have tried harder, but any young Marenite lady of quality knows when her attentions are unwanted, and should have the prudence to cease her efforts immediately.

I must admit... my pride was hurt. Not only my pride, but some small part of me, deep down, had looked forward to getting to know this dashing young man. My common sense, however, soon quashed that grain of foolishness, and I determined not to spare Prince Jasson of Tortall a second thought.

After all, those young lords still seemed very interested, even if the princes were no longer... for even boyish Liam seemed to avoid me all night.

But as my father would say; don't mourn the loss of one poppy when you have dozens of daisies growing around you.

* * *

I know, I know... pathetically short. I really posted this just to show you guys that I haven't died a terrible death, I've just been neglecting my poor fanfic.

I really have no excuse. But I hope that now summer has started, I'll find it in myself to finish this thing. It might be a day or two before I continue Violet's adventures... I need to map out the plot, ending and all, so I'm not just fumbling blindly through this story.

Oh, and I couldn't figure out how to fix the repeating chapter thing. I'm terrible with technology... if anyone knows how to go back in and edit a chapter that has already been published, I would be much obliged if you would tell me how in the comments... pretty please?

Erg... don't worry. I have some new ideas as to how to continue Violet's story, and I will finish, if it's the last thing I do!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Most all this goodness belongs to Tamora Pierce.

* * *

I didn't speak to Jasson again for a week. During that time I didn't think of him much, as I had made a few friends and was busy with other things. However, every night he would pop up in my thoughts without fail before I fell asleep. Why would he act so strange? Didn't he trust me? But then I would remind myself that I had only spoken to him but twice, and that I was being a silly and emotional girl.

I had almost forgotten about my task at court until I received a short letter from my father. After speaking a bit on the condition of the plantation and my other siblings, he mentioned that King Iven had written him and inquired about me. I could almost feel my fathers eager excitement jumping off the page, but I was less pleased. Not only did I not want to be anything resembling a spy in the least bit, but even if I did I had nothing to report. King Iven would just have to wait.

During my various activities during the week, one of the gentlemen in my acquaintance had mentioned the expansive library of the palace, filled with fantastic tomes on any subject one could imagine. Naturally then, one day when I was bored with nothing to do I made my way over to this legendary library. I had never truly been one for traditional Marenite literature, although I did enjoy the romances and adventures that some of the slaves owned. Now that I was in Tortall, no one could chastise me for reading things that were 'un-ladylike', or even 'scandalous'.

When my gentleman friend had said the library was expansive, I had imagined a very large room, but nothing of this magnitude had ever occurred to me, and I nearly walked right back out through the door until I reminded myself that eventually I would find my way through the forest of shelves. I knew I would get lost, but one always eventually finds their way out, don't they?

It took me a great deal of time, but at last I chose a volume about Tortall's great hero, the Lioness. She fascinated me, and I knew very little of her story, so I spoke to one of the little scribes sitting at a desk about borrowing the book for a time, then set out in search of a good place to read. This was just what I needed; some time alone. I was thankful for all the new acquaintances, but too many activities could make one's head spin after a while.

Passing a window and seeing how beautiful the weather was outside, I decided to find someplace in the garden to read. A doorway down the hall from the Mithran temple led me into a courtyard, and I started meandering through the expansive gardens.

The day was bright and crisp, warm in the sunlight but chilly in the shade. Soon I found myself within a copse of trees, looking at a small cemetery dotted with ancient, moss-covered tombstones. I spotted a small marble bench in the sunlight and moved to sit down. This was perfect. I leaned against the aspen sapling behind the bench and dove into my book, losing myself to the world as I read about the valiant young Alanna and her adventures.

I'm not sure how long I sat there reading, but when I finally came up for air I noticed that the sun had long since disappeared behind the far treetops, and the cemetery was bathed in a dim orange glow. Surprised and slightly spooked, I stood up to leave when I heard a noise in the trees to my left. I whipped my head around to look, and saw a dark shape standing maybe thirty feet away. Numb fear splintered throughout my brain, and all my senses focused on that one shadow in front of me. Morbid thoughts ran through my head. Oh why had I stayed in the cemetery so long? There were stories about this back home! At dusk the ghouls come out, and they prey on anyone who dares trespass on their nightly celebration grounds, and...

After two seconds the shadow called out, "Please, stay. I didn't mean to frighten you. I just want to talk." What I had thought was a graveyard ghoul had Jasson's voice, and soon he stepped out of the shadows with a grin.

I was surprised, but a managed a quick curtsy and a surprised "Your Highness!"

As soon as I did so, however, a dark cloud came over Jasson's face. He muttered, "That's exactly what I meant to avoid." Then walked closer to me. "Please, Miss L'Cerisier, call me Jasson. It's what I prefer. And if you wouldn't mind, I would like to sit and chat for a while. Please, sit." he gestured to the bench I had just vacated.

Sitting and smoothing my skirts, I said as he sat next to me "It just doesn't feel right, is all, calling you, a prince, by your given name when I am little more than a commoner from Maren!"

He frowned at me. "If I call you Violet, then will we be even?"

I could see he would agree to nothing less, so I nodded.

He smiled, his entire manner abruptly changing. "Thank you, Violet. That makes me feel better. By the way, I'm glad I found you here. I've been wanting to speak to you for a few days now."

"What did you want to speak to me about, my l- I mean, Jasson?"

He chuckled, then became serious again. "I've gotten the feeling lately that you've been avoiding me, Violet. Why is that?"

Astonished, I exclaimed, "Me? Avoiding you? I was under the impression the you were the one avoiding me!"

"Really?" He seemed just as puzzled as I was. "Well, then, there seems to be a misunderstanding. Let's agree now to not avoid each other any more, alright?" He smiled mischievously, like this was all one big joke he was playing on me. I was less amused, as I was almost certain he had in fact been avoiding me.

"Jasson, there's also something I have to ask you..." I bit my lip, hesitating. What if he became upset with me?

"And what is that?"

"Well, I was wondering... it seemed very strange to me and I just wanted to know... why did you not want me to know that you were royal?"

He frowned and looked off into the distance, thinking. Seconds later he looked at me again. "It's hard to explain, Violet."

"Please try."

That made him smile. "Well you see, I've never exactly been... comfortable, with my status as royalty. It's as if I'm being cut off from everyone else for no good reason, as I'll never inherit the throne. When you came, I felt like... I don't know, as if here was someone who had no idea of who my parents were, who could see me for who I was without that film of status over their eyes. I've had so many exceptions made for me because I was a prince, but I don't want that! I want to pay for my actions, to be judged on my own merit, not that of my bloodline! I... I apologize for being dishonest with you, Violet. It was foolish of me. I hope you can come to forgive me for it."

I looked at him for a moment. His eyes were facing downward, and a few shaggy locks of his thick black hair had fallen in front of his face. He looked like a dejected puppy. This imagery made me laugh, and with a boldness that surprised even me, I put two fingers under his chin and lifted his face to look me in the eyes. "I completely understand, Jasson, and I forgive you."

Approximately a second and a half after I said this, I realized how improper it was for me to be touching him like this and pulled away, blushing. "Please forgive my boldness, sir. I forgot myself for a moment." I mutter while turning to face away.

He caught my hand as I pulled it away, and brought it to his lips. "Don't apologize." He said, then leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

I gasped, taken by surprise, then he deepened the kiss. I leaned into him for a moment, then realized exactly the position I was in and pushed away from him, standing up.

His unbelievably blue eyes were confused as he looked up at me. "Vi, what's wrong?"

I couldn't bear to look at him, so, blushing and breathing much too quickly, I addressed his feet. "I apologize if my behavior led you on in any way, sir. I should not have allowed us to take such liberties with each other."

He rose to speak, but before he did I managed a quick curtsy and quickly walked out of the cemetery, finding my way back into the palace and to my room.

Back within the safe walls of my bedroom I at last sat down to think. What had happened back there? I can't deny that I enjoyed it immensly, yet at the same time something about it felt wrong, as if... well, to be truthful, I wasn't really sure. I was probably just embarrassed. Still...

After a while I resolved to act as if nothing had happened next time I saw him, and if he continued with... romantic intentions, I would insist that he court me in an honorable way. I did, after all, have a reputation to maintain. I could not afford to become some younger prince's plaything, to be cast aside with no intention of marriage or any other way to redemption.

Amidst all these businesslike thought, however, there was one question that kept pulling at me, somewhere in the back of my skull; had Jasson kissed me because he liked me, or because I was available?

* * *

Well... it's been a while, hehe. I think I've got a nice plot planned out for Violet, so I'll probably (hopefully!) be updating more often. I'm excited to write this thing out. Cheers!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: The fantabulous world of Tortall does not belong to me, but to Tamora Pierce

* * *

About the meeting with Jasson, I couldn't dare tell Olympe or Letje. Olympe, even with my best interests at heart, could never hold her tongue when it came to gossip. Letje, though she would keep my secret until the grave, would have a changed opinion of me forever. Her delicate and conservative nature would consider me somewhat of a loose woman for letting a man kiss me, and I couldn't bear that. So I decided to confide in Capucine.

I sought the little slave girl out as soon as I could, and we sat down in my bedroom chamber drinking sweet, comforting tea. She knew something was up, but years as a slave had taught her to listen first and ask later. After draining my mug, I began to tell her my short, shocking tale.

When I was finished she was very quiet. After a minute, however, she began laughing softly, then became very quiet again, looking at me and smiling.

You can only imagine how infuriating this was for me. Anxious to hear what she thought, I demanded "Well what do you think? What should I do?"

"Well, Miss Vi, I'd say that you should do what you think is right."

I made a tragic face, and grabbed her hand. "Come on, Nana! Stop talking to me like your master! I want to know what you really, honestly think!"

She pursed her lips and thought for a second, then nodded. "Well, Lettie, it seems this is a bit of a conundrum. But if you think about it, it's not all that bad. Now, if you were a commoner, I would tell you to pursue this romance. It would be good for you. But you're a lady, Miss Vi. You need to be careful. And don't let him overstep his boundaries."

That confused me for a moment. "Wait, Capucine... are you telling me that I should allow Prince Jasson to court me?"

That made her chuckle. "In a sense. I think that, if you care for him, you should tell him that. But I don't approve of him kissing you without asking. That was not what a gentleman would have done. If you wish, I think you should tell him that you will be courted as a lady, and not some lowborn trollop." Realizing she was not talking like a slave, she added "At least, that's what I think another noble lady would have told you."

Oh, Capucine. I smiled at her. "Thank you so very much for your advice, Nana. I think I'll do just that." then I kissed her on the cheek and left to get ready. Olympe, Letje and I had plans to dine together tonight.

* * *

I finished the book about the Lioness within a day, and soon I made my way back to the palace library to borrow the next installment. Alanna's story was fascinating, but I found myself skeptical as to whether it all was completely true.

To satisfy myself on this point, I decided to look around to see if there were any other volumes on the lioness, and if they agreed with the other author on the course of events surrounding her. I wound my way through the shelves, just enjoying stroking my hand along the beautiful leather bindings.

As I reached the end of one especially long shelf I turned the corner, distracted, then immediately ran back around the corner, like a mouse fleeing the cat. For looking through the books on the next shelf over was Jasson.

I leaned back against the shelf with both hands clasped over my mouth, looking around for an escape. I couldn't talk to him yet! I hadn't thought of what I was going to say!

That was when I made my worst mistake. Instead of quietly walking back down the row, I turned around and, I'm ashamed to say, _spied _on him. Well, not exactly, but gazing through the gap in the shelves I could see the back of his head, bent and perusing through a book. He did have very fine hair, I thought, then reprimanded myself, shaking my head in frustration.

I froze as I heard the little beads in my earrings clack together ever so softly, yet the sound seemed to reverberate in the quiet corner of the library. Jasson froze to, and as he twisted his head over his shoulder to look, I ducked and hit the ground, wincing at the pain in my torso as my corset twisted. _Oh, please gods, _I prayed, _please don't let him look down._

He didn't look down, but to my horror he put his book down and began looking at the books on the shelf facing me. Slowly, and as quietly as I could manage, I began to crawl away. But alas, I hadn't gotten more than a few paces away when I heard that familiar voice right behind me.

"Violet?" Jasson asked, sounding puzzled.

I stared down at the ground, biting my lip and wishing that the wood would just open and swallow me up. Unfortunately, I wasn't so lucky.

Jasson spoke again. "Violet, are you alright?"

I turned around and tried to stand up, but found that my corset had twisted in such a way that I would not be able to get up on my own. So I settled for a dignified sitting position, and looked up at him with a serene look on my face.

"I'm absolutely fine, thank you. I was merely looking for my... earring. I dropped it, you see. But I found it, so now all is well, thank you."

We both stood there in silence for a few moments, then he held out his hand to help me up. "No, thank you," I declined "I can manage to stand up on my own, thank you." Knowing I could do no such thing, however, I merely sat there. My cheeks felt as if they'd been lit on fire.

After another moment of awkward silence, Jasson burst out laughing. "Come on, silly girl, and let me help you up." I accepted his helping hand, but to my surprise he also slipped an arm around my waist and lift me up. I was surprised my face had melted off my skull already.

To my relief, however, once I was safely on my feet he let go of me and took a step back, grinning but no longer laughing. I couldn't dare to look at him so, fixing my eyes on a large dictionary, I mumbled "Thank you for your assistance, but I must be going now."

Before I could turn around, however, he placed his hand lightly on my arm and said "Wait, Violet. I think we should talk." I was relieved to find he was no longer grinning, and had an earnest look in his eyes.

He led me to a small couch at another deserted corner of the library. Sitting down, he patted the spot next to him, but I sat on the far edge of the couch, and waited for him to speak. I was still mortified by what had occurred.

I thanked the gods when he started talking without waiting for me to speak. "Violet, I apologize for what happened in the cemetery. I was rash, and I offended you. I am sorry." After this he looked down at his hands. So he was embarrassed too! This made me feel better, and at last I spoke.

"I too am sorry for reacting in such a harsh way. It was thoughtless of me. I hope that it doesn't sour our relationship at all."

At this he looked up at me, surprised. "You mean, you don't not want anything to do with me from now on?"

I chuckled. he had a funny way of phrasing it. "What I need to know, Jasson, is what your intentions were when you kissed me. I need to know if you are merely an honorable man swept away by passion, or nothing but a scoundrel." I couldn't help my patronizing tone. It was too much fun.

Relieved, he smiled at me. "Violet, if you haven't noticed already, I hold you in much higher regard than any other lady in this court. I want to get to know you better, and I have no intention of being merely your friend." At this he gave me a roguish grin, and I shivered.

Straightening my posture like a real Marenite lady, I said to him "Well, Jasson of Conte, I don't know how you folks do it here in Tortall, but in Maren honorable men court their women before trying anything."

Grinning even wider, Jasson grabbed my hand and kissed it. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, then withdrew my hand.

"If we were in Maren, then you would first have to meet my father and ask his permission to court me. But as we're not in Maren, you'll have to settle with meeting Desdemona."

Suddenly most of the mischief left Jasson's eyes and he was all kindness. "Then Violet, I promise I will treat you as you deserve to be treated. And if that means courting you, then I'm ecstatic to begin."

Smiling, I stood up. "Well then, I'll call for you tonight, and you can have dinner with Desdemona and I-"

"Just one thing, Violet. Who is this Desdemona?"

"You'll have to find out. Anyway, you'll meet Desdemona and if she approves of you, then you'll be allowed to court me. Oh, and Jasson?"

He looked up at me. "Yes?"

"If we're to do this properly, then that means no trying to court me."

At that I began to walk away, then stopped and said over my shoulder "A gentleman waits two weeks, at the very least."

Somehow, as I walked away, I knew he was grinning that roguish grin of his.

* * *

Note: While I was reading through the past chapters, I realized that I've mixed up exactly where and who Violet's brother and sister are visitng. To clarify; Emilo is in the Copper Isles, and Vignette is in Carthak. That'll be important later in the plot, so I figured I'd clear that all up now.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I'm sure you all know... Tamora Pierce is a goddess

Oh, and also; I just learned a new word the other day! Let's see if any of you can spot it :D (Psst - It was dictionary dot com's word of the day about two weeks ago)

* * *

The next two weeks were filled with a quiet sort of wicked excitement I hadn't experienced since I was a little girl stealing from the cookie jar in Clarita's kitchen.

Jasson and Desdemona got along swimmingly. She approved of him wholeheartedly, and so our courtship began. I was so excited that I wrote Vignette a long, rhapsodistic letter.

Of course, Jasson was a complete gentleman. Yet though he didn't try anything, really, there was always that look of mischief in his eyes which made me blush. During the days we would wander the garden paths, just talking. Politics, plays, fashion, food, random little subjects... you name it, and we'd have discussed it. He would explain to me how Tortall worked, and in turn I would describe the quiet grandeur of Maren to him. It was so refreshing, this time with him. I think we both felt it, not having to perform for anyone, the tide of the conversation ebbing and flowing as easily as the tide. I still felt as if I was breaking some rule (I hadn't even mentioned the courtship to my father!), but somehow I knew it would all turn out alright.

Near the end of this fortnight, however, I received a letter that dampened my spirits a bit. It was from King Iven.

The letter was short. After a very brief inquiry as to how I was doing, he asked if I had any new information. Of course, he didn't say it in such a straightforward manner. It was more along the lines of '_I haven't heard from you in a while, my dear Miss Violet. It makes me worry. Please, write to me and tell me everything that is happening in Tortall. I am so curious as to how my fellow monarchs are faring.'_

Treasonous as the thought was, my king quite frankly gave me the creeps.

When I received the letter, I stared at it for a long time after reading it. The flickering light of the candle on my vanity caught my attention. I held the expensive piece of parchment over the flame until it singed my fingertips. I told myself that that was what a good spy does; destroys any evidence.

* * *

It wasn't long before word got around that Jasson was courting me. There was a good amount of gossip surrounding us, but I truly didn't care. I was too happy to care about whatever anyone else thought.

Naturally, however, the King and Queen were eager to meet me. Soon an afternoon tea was planned so that they could meet me personally. In the two days that preceded that engagement I couldn't help fretting about the impression I would make. What if they thought me impolite? A country hick? A trollop? Even worse, what if they had already made plans for Jasson to marry some beautiful, rich, foreign princess?

Jasson put most of my fears to rest, but I still worried. I was both embarrassed and relieved when he assured me, laughing, that he was not in fact previously engaged, and he did not think he ever would be. The real problem now was what I should wear.

Desdemona had had one or two gowns made for me since we arrived, as I had packed considerably light, yet still I didn't know what to do. What sort of impression did I want to make? What would the color of my dress signify to them? Silly questions like this would plague me for hours at a time.

The morning of the engagement, Capucine walked into my dressing room to find me despondent, sitting on the floor in my dressing gown surrounded by discarded dresses. When I gazed up at her in distress, she set her mouth determinedly, called Desdemona and Amalie in, and sorted through my dresses.

At last she picked out one of my favorites, a white and yellow piece gathered at the waist by a pin in the shape of a sunflower and embroidered with bits of yellow ribbon and pretty little sunflowers. I was still nervous, but after Amalie had fixed my hair into a simple updo, I couldn't deny that I looked pretty. I was ready.

I met Jasson outside my quarters, and when I took his arm he led me across the castle to the royal wing. As we walked, we also talked, and I knew Jasson was trying to distract me. It worked.

Eventually we reached an unassuming little door set into a large wall on the oppositet side of the palace. As we reached the door, Jasson stopped and looked at me. Smiling at my nervous expression, he chuckled, kissed my forehead and held me close a moment before whispering in my ear, "You have nothing to worry about, silly girl. They'll love you."

Then he knocked on the door.

Seconds later, a pretty maid led us into a beautiful room. Although not truly that large, the room had a high ceiling and windows that lined the wall, reaching from the ceiling to the floor and looking out onto the expanse that was the city of Corus. A few cozy armchairs and a loveseat surrounded a small coffee table. In the far corner sat an enormous mahogany desk, littered with papers, quills and books. Behind the desk sat the man who was unmistakably King Jonathan. Leaning over his shoulder, looking at a document, was Queen Thayet.

As we walked into the room, Thayet looked up from the document and smiled at us. "Please, sit." She said, gesturing to the seats. Before I could choose an armchair, Jasson grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the loveseat. He sat close to me, holding my hand on the seat. I could already feel my cheeks warming up.

Thayet sat down in a chair opposite us, still smiling graciously. "Jonathan, dear," She called "Put that down and come join us." She waved the maid over and began giving her directions. Jonathan came and sat down in a chair near Thayet, grinning at us. "How are you today, Violet?" He asked, smiling warmly.

"I'm very good, thank you." With that my nervousness nearly disappeared altogether. I had been foolish to worry; Jasson's parents were genuinely nice and interesting. We talked until the tea and food came, and even then the conversation still continued. I was having such a nice time that I hardly realized we'd been at it for more than an hour when Jonathan announced that he was late for a meeting.

"It was so good to meet you, Violet." And after bidding adieu to his wife and son, he departed. Watching the Contes interact, I could almost forget that they ruled one of the most powerful realms in the Eastern lands.

Soon after this, we ran out of the delicious little crumpets we'd been eating, and Thayet asked Jasson to go fetch a servant and see if we couldn't get some more. As soon as Jasson had departed, Thayet looked at me, smiling, then leaned forward to speak.

"I'm glad that worked out so well. I've been wanting to speak to you privately, Violet." She seemed a bit more serious than previously, but still kindly. I wondered what this was about.

Seeing this, Thayet chuckled softly. "You don't need to be afraid Violet. You haven't done anything wrong, and I'm not going to scold you. I merely wanted to speak to you a little about Jasson. You've been courting two weeks now, I believe?"

I nodded. So did she.

"I just felt that you should know... Jasson is very, well, rash. In everything he does. I'm sure you both have a happy future together, but I just wanted to warn you... just in case it should seem that he loses interest. I don't want him to hurt you."

I was touched, and mildly relieved. Why, I didn't quite know. "Don't worry, madam, I'll be fine if anything happens."

But she wasn't done yet. "Though I warn you about this, I'm getting the feeling that Jasson won't lose interest in this case. He's never devoted so much time and energy to one girl before. I think he might be on his way to loving you, Violet." Her eyes seemed to penetrate my skull. I opened my mouth to speak, but she continued before I was done. "I think you are a very kind and wonderful girl, Violet. All the same, I want you to be careful with my son. As well as breaking others' hearts," She smiled slightly at this "his heart gets broken just as easily. Please keep that in mind, dear."

I hardly knew what to say. "I... I think I might be well on my way to loving him, too." It was true, but I'd never been so open with anyone but Capucine before. It made me nervous, as if by spilling one secret, my whole brain might burst and everything I had tried to hide would fall out in a great flood. Fortunately, my skull remained intact, and she smiled at me again, taking my hand and patting it.

"I think you two will be very happy together." At this moment, Jasson came back into the room, carrying a small tray of tarts.

"These are slightly different from the others, but in my opinion, they're better." He announced, as he set the tray down and grinned at me.

As I bit into one, the bittersweet cherry sauce flooded my mouth, and so did the awareness of who I was and what I was truly doing here.

* * *

That night as I lay in bed, trying to sleep, I had mixed emotions. On one hand, I was so happy to be welcomed by the Contes, and Jasson made me feel as if I was flying. On the other, I felt guilt and bitterness, knowing that I would never be more than a cukoo in the robin's nest. And as I drifted into unconsciousness, Iven's words kept coming back to me.

_Please write soon, and tell me everything. I'm so curious, curious, curious..._


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for the wonderful reviews! You cannot even imagine how happy I was when I saw I had two new reviews! Aaah...

Aria and Polaris: I am sorry. Violet's story isn't really the happiest... I almost feel bad for ruining everything for the poor girl. She has a bit of fun in this chapter, though :)

Sorry it's been a while. But hey, look, an extra long chapter! Oooh...

Anyway, on to the story! (Disclaimer, disclaimer... you know how it goes)

* * *

After that day, I met with the Contes more and more often, until I was dining with them nearly every night. I felt welcome, like I was becoming a part of the family... the royal family of Tortall was far more of a real family than my own had been since my mother had died. It gave me a curious feeling, warm and tingling and not altogether unpleasant, in my stomach.

Jasson's sisters, Lianne and Vania, were delightful. Liam was quickly becoming like a brother to me, and though they were still mildly intimidating (being king and queen and all...), Jonathan and Thayet were nothing but kind to me. I hadn't had the chance to meet with the eldest prince and princess, seeing as Kalasin was now in Carthak as empress and Roald was away in the Yamani Islands.

The first snowstorm came three months after my arrival in Tortall. I had seen snow before, of course; but there was never more than a light dusting at home, and most winters in Southern Maren consisted of rain and sleet storms. Never before had I experienced the wonder of such thick, beautiful little snowflakes, like wintry little bumblebees swirling lazily down from the sky. It was fantastical.

When I told Jasson about the lack of snow at home, he was very excited. Why, I had no idea, and when I asked him he just shook his head, and said, "You'll see."

The snow kept falling each night, though never so heavy as that first, and a few days later Jasson took me to Corus. Even in the cold weather the marketplace was alive with bright colors and smells, noises and people. I was cold, what with my insufficient clothing, made for Maren winters, but seeing this, Jasson offered me his cloak.

"Oh, please, Jasson. You're probably just as cold as I am. Keep it, I'll be fine." I said, trying to hand the cloak back to him.

"Nonsense, Violet. I've grown up with these winters. You'll freeze if you don't take the cloak, silly girl."

So, I had no choice. But even with the cloak, Jasson kept his arm around me whenever possible. I was in heaven, I swear, walking around Corus with the boy that, I was afraid to admit, I was falling head over heels in love for.

After stopping and having lunch and sweet, creamy hot chocolate, Jasson led me into a dress shop.

"Now we need to buy you a proper Tortallan winter wardrobe."

Despite my protests ("Please, Jasson, let me pay. You know I can afford it."), he had me choose a gown right away. I settled for a clean and elegant dark blue gown with a wide skirt, long sleeves, a bit of white ruffle peeking out of the square neckline and a fringe of scarlet lace at the hemline. To go with this, I chose a black wool cape that sparkled like the night sky with bits of silver embroidered thread, a row of white ruffles frothing like waves at the hem. The inside of the cloak was line with luxurious dark red velvet, and it had an elegant little hood to keep my head warm.

While I was trying this on, Jasson was off in another part of the shop, choosing a 'surprise' for me. What this was, I had no idea, and though reluctant to take such expensive gifts, I had to admit that I was excited.

After the woman at the counter had gotten my measurements, packaged the dress and cloak and assured Jasson that his order would be ready in two weeks time, we left. The streets had become considerably less crowded, as it was almost early evening, and the sun was just beginning to recede from the sky. I asked Jasson if we should call a carriage to bring us back to the palace, but he said he had one more surprise for me.

By now, I had realized that once Jasson set his mind on something, there was not much one could do to stop him. Besides, his 'surprises' were beginning to become less of a thing to be wary about and more something to enjoy. I was finding that I quite liked surprises, as long as he was the one presenting them.

We payed a boy to run the boxes back to the palace ("Guard it with your life, boy." Jasson had said), then strolled, arm in arm, along a modest little boardwalk along the river. The water sparkled magnificently in the moonlight, and as I leaned on Jasson, I didn't think I could possibly be any happier. That is, until we reached the barge at the end of the boardwalk.

The flat boat was lit up with bright lights, and a small band had started to warm up. The sound of a violin pierced the air, and I felt my knees tingle with excitement. Dancing!

By the time we boarded the barge, folk had begun a country line dance. Jasson and I joined right away, and as he twirled me around I felt like a fairy princess, surrounded by love and laughter and light.

I'm not sure how long we danced, with the music skipping around our heads, like a fine mist entering our heads through our ear canals, piercing every other though and taking control of our senses, conquering our nerve endings and issuing the command to dance.

I had never been dancing anywhere but the refined ballrooms of Maren and Tortall before, and I loved how complete strangers, folk who would never come within two feet of each other on the street, were pressed up against each other, holding hands when they had never made eye contact before.

Soon snow began to fall from the blue-purple-grey sky again, and the band reigned in the music like a wild horse, slowing it down. The big brass horn, playing in the background until now, took center stage and started off a familiar, lovely, lazy melody, reminiscent to me of glowing summer evenings at home. Jasson took me in his arms as the others began to partner up, and we swayed back and forth, my head on his shoulder, so peaceful and warm and together.

The man who began singing had a soft, gravelly voice. I knew the lyrics; Clarita used to sing this song while she would cook in the little kitchen. I sung softly into Jasson's ear. ".._. why does the willow grow up so sadly, because the willow tree moves to love's melody... what am I going to do, I'm so tangled up with you."_

As the big horn crooned the final note, Jasson chuckled softly and asked me, "How do you know that song?"

"It's a Marenite song. Southern Maren, actually. Clarita used to sing it, and I've loved it forever..." I blushed, and nuzzled into his neck. He laughed again.

"Well, it's beautiful, and so are you." He whispered in my ear, and I smiled.

* * *

The pages who trained at the castle had always intrigued me and unnerved me at the same time. They seemed so young to be doing such serious work, yet they treated the deadly arts like a game. They intrigued me because I wanted to know what they thought of their fate as a knight of the realm, and unnerved me because it was never safe to go for a stroll around the palace without fearing a herd of boys or a stray practice arrow might strive you from afar.

Sometimes I would sit at a safe distance and watch them train. Their teachers were efficient in the sculpting of little warriors, and I felt that in war, Tortall's armies would be a force to be reckoned with. I would not want to be on the wrong side of that fight.

The morning after going dancing, there was a fresh coat of snow on the ground. Early in the morning, I heard Capucine and someone else talking in my doorway. Confused, I turned over and opened my eyes. Capucine blocked the door to my bedroom wrapped in a woolen dressing gown, and in front of her was Jasson, looking at her pleadingly.

Seeing Jasson, in my room, so early, shocked me, and when I saw him I gasped and pulled the covers up over my nose and looked at him with wide eyes. He peeked over Capucine's shoulder and grinned at me, then begged "Please, Violet, tell the lovely lady to let me in. I have to give you your surprise!"

Capucine turned to me with an apologetic look on her face and said, "Please, miss, I told him it wasn't proper, as you are only in your nightgown, and this is your bedchamber, and he is neither family nor your fiance."

I giggled at Jasson's tragic expression. I pushed my chin out of the blanket and said, "Nana, could you tell him to wait in the parlor for ten minutes?" I knew how much I was frustrating Jasson by not speaking directly to him, but I felt a sort of evil glee at that. He could wait!

After pulling on a simple green gown and messing with my hair a little, I went out to meet him. He was pacing back and forth in front of the window, and two boxes sat on the chaise lounge. When he saw me, he strode over to me and hugged me, then bent over to kiss me enthusiastically. I pulled away, laughing, and pulled him to the love-seat.

"What brought on this shocking display of affection, your highness? I must say I'm quite thoroughly scandalized." I teased him, and he chuckled, then leaned over and grabbed the dress box off of the chaise.

"I brought you something, love. Open it, please."

I pulled the lid off the box and sifted through the tissue paper until my hands met soft silk. I could see creamy ivory silk, and a little purple flower embroidered in the fabric. I pulled the whole thing out.

Holding it out, the silk took the form of a dressing gown lined in plush and embroidered all over with little violets and vines. It was gorgeous.

I turned to Jasson. "It's so beautiful, thank..."

He grinned and interrupted me. "There's more."

I took out the rest of the tissue and found, at the bottom of the box, three items: a cream colored blouse, a pair of forest green breeches, and a wool wraparound jacket. I looked at him, confused, and he winked and said, "Now, wouldn't it be unfair if we were to have a snowball fight and you were hindered by those enormous skirts?"

He pretended to be heartbroken when I gave him a playful push, then told me there was one more gift, although he didn't have it now.

"Jasson, you know, I simply cannot take any more gifts. This is ridiculous, and I'm beginning to feel embarrassed. What will everyone say?" I worried about that; back home, suitors could only buy ladies small pieces of jewelry, until they were engaged. This was... scandalous, truly.

"You want to know what the young ladies and the old biddies will say? They'll turn absolutely green with envy, and whisper to themselves, saying scandalous things of me and you, and wishing they were standing in their shoes. And you know what the men will say? Why, they'll be too entranced by your beauty to notice that you're wearing a gift. They may try to capture your attentions, also, but you know what? 'll be right there next to you, and you won't have to worry about a thing."

With that he pulled me onto his lap and began kissing me in earnest. He paused only to remark, "Besides, silly girl, in Tortall we give presents at Midwinter. I want you to look like the princess you'll one day be at the balls."

I could only hope. But how could a spy, for that was truly what I was, become a princess? It was a cruel oxymoron: cuckoo princess.

* * *

The Crystal Room of the palace look like the inside of a gilded snowflake on the first night of Midwinter. Candles and torches burned in every corner and window, lighting up the night, and couples swirled around the dance floor like fairies, or possibly snowflakes caught in a windstorm.

Jasson and his siblings were greeting nobles as they entered, the stream of people finally trickling to a stop as everyone showed up. I swelled with a sort of inner pride as I watched Jasson, bearing himself like a hero of legend, dramatically handsome in his light blue, silky shirt and silk black leggings, and cream colored tunic. He wore a simple silver circlet around his pitch dark hair, and as he walked to me I could not believe that I, Violet L'Cerisier, a simple heiress from the backwoods of Southern Maren, was his.

My dress, too, was blue silk, though my gown was more of a grey-blue color, the color of the sea on a cloudy day. I felt almost under dressed in the gown; the long-sleeved bodice was tight until it hit my hips, where a dark blue belt studded with green and amber gems rested. The skirt was slit in the middle to reveal the ivory slip underneath, with soft lace that looked like sea foam. Around my shoulders I wore a sheer shawl that fastened at my left shoulder with a silver brooch in the shape of a swallow; the shawl, too, had soft sea foam lace at the edge. My hair was curled and held back loosely in a grey ribbon. All this had been the last mystery gift Jasson had spoken of, and though I knew it was improper, I thought it was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen.

The quartet of cellos, that beautiful, mournful sounding instrument, had just begun to play a melody as Jasson reached me. He kissed my hand, pulled me onto the dance floor, and for a while, I was in bliss.

As we danced, we talked.

"The snow is beautiful, I know," He began at one point. "but it causes so many inconveniences. Sometimes the road to Corus is blocked for months by the buildup of the stuff. For instance, we have an encampment of, say, four hundred or so soldiers camped in the hills near the Drell River valley. The snow this year has been so severe, they're stuck; the men in charge have decided not to deal with the hassle of transporting all the men, wagons and animals back near Corus, and as they see no threat from Tusaine, they have decided to stay. I don't know, though. To me, they seem completely vulnerable to any sort of attack. No matter though. I'm probably just being paranoid. I must say, love, that you look absolutely stunning tonight."

I smiled and thanked him, but as I did my mind whirled. A garrison of soldiers? Camping near the Tusaine border? I wasn't sure... was this the sort of information Ivan was looking for? After all, I was supposed to provide intel so that he could keep an eye on Tortall; he would probably ant to know about the small army hat was considerably close to his own borders? I decided to write him. It was probably trivial, but it would keep him from suspecting me of purposely not reporting.

Yes, that's what I would do from here on out; I would bombard Ivan with pointless little pieces of intelligence until finally he decided I had nothing worth reporting, and shirked me of my duty. What a plan!

That night as I left the ballroom on Jasson's arm, I was hopeful that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out alright.

* * *

Yay, happy chapter! Sort of a rare thing, but hey, what can ya do...

Thanks again you guys for continuing to read my story, despite my sporadic posting habits.


	10. Chapter 10

_My King,_

_Tortall and it's rulers are fairing well, as am I. I am both humbled and flattered by your letter to me, and I only hope that both your majesty and Maren are faring as well as I._

_As per your inquiry, all is peaceful in Tortall. Why, so peaceful that a garrison of four-hundred or so is able to camp by the River Drell without fear of attack; peace is holding, the capital is bustling with Midwinter celebrations, and their majesties are in good health._

_I am your devoted servant,_

_Violet L'Cerisier_

_

* * *

_

Midwinter passed as a swirling, fantastic storm of lights and gaiety. On Jasson's strong arm nearly the entire time, I enjoyed the celebrations immensely, and after sending a short letter to Iven, I was relieved. I could concentrate on having fun and enjoying life.

But as Midwinter drew to a close, I found out that everything must end, even joy.

Two weeks after the annual squire to knight transformations, awful news arrived at the palace, borne on the back of a tired warhorse. I was giving Jasson a piano lesson in the big music room when a frenzied page came dashing in.

"Your Highness! Prince Jasson!" The boy cried, breathless. There was a high-pitched clank as Jasson's fingers slipped on the keys, and he glared up at the boy.

"Well? What is it?" He demanded, every inch the imperious prince. I looked at the boy, curious. What could this be about?

"Something... something's happened... the king... he wants to see you..." Poor boy. He seemed frightened out of his wits. He had probably dashed from the other side of the palace to deliver whatever news he had.

Jasson stood up, alarmed. He began to walk to the door, turned around, planted a firm kiss on the crown of my head, and set off at a swift pace. The page still stood in the doorway, panting.

I stood and walked over to him. I gave him a moment to breath, then asked, "What's happened?"

The boy looked up at me, his big grey eyes troubled. "News from the fort in the Drell River Valley, lady." My blood ran cold as he continued. "There was a surprise attack; almost a hundred raiders coming from the south. They weren't ready, and almost two-hundred men were killed." He excused himself, saying he had to get back to his lessons, as I stood, staring into space, a mingling of shock and dread crowding my thoughts.

The Drell River Valley had been attacked. From the south, too. As I broke out in a cold sweat, I ran to my rooms, where I barricaded myself in my bedroom, to think.

A cold wind shook the tree outside my window, a draft creeping into my room through the seam of the glass.

* * *

The next day Jasson found me in the library, halfheartedly flipping through a book on Copper Isles fashion. He pulled a chair up next to mine and sat, holding one of my hands.

"The garrison at the Drell River Valley was attacked five days ago." His face was troubled, and I could not hold his gaze. "They were raiders, from the south. Almost one-hundred fifty. They managed to kill nearly two-hundred of our men." He took a deep breath, and continued. "Those that weren't killed died from a powerful suicide spell the minute anyone tried to question them. We don't know anything about who did it."

I couldn't say anything. He leaned over and rested his head on my shoulder, burying his face in the soft wool of my dress. I stroked his hair, glad not to have to look him in the eye.

"Two-hundred, Violet. Men and boys. It was a massacre; they surprised them, on a foggy night." He sounded heartbroken. For all his roguish behavior, he felt quite acutely.

I ventured a word in quietly. "They were soldiers, Jasson. They knew that they might die."

"I know... believe me, I know. It just seems so wrong, to sneak up like that..."

"They died honorably, at least. They're with the Black God now, who will treat them well." I tried to comfort him, and he lifted his face up to mine, a kind look in his eyes.

"Tender heart," he said, quietly. "You're right. What's done is done. Now all we need to do is find out who did this, and retaliate."

As he leaned in to kiss me, it was all I could do to keep the guilty tears in my eyes.

Returning that night to my room, I felt guilty, but with the door closed and the cruel wind shaking my windowpane, I felt suddenly and inexplicably angry.

That grasping, slimy serpent of a man! What right had he to do this? What right had he to exploit my happiness, and use it to kill others? Without thinking, I grabbed the jar of expensive ink from my desk and threw it to the ground, the glass breaking into thousands of tiny pieces, the ink spreading like black blood across the wood floor. It splattered the bottom of my pale pink dress, and I cursed under my breath.

My anger suddenly fading, I sat down on the bed, the rage replaced by a tiredness deep in my bones. I buried my face in my ink-stained hands, and cried for a long time.


	11. Chapter 11

I owe everyone an apology for being gone soooo loooong...

But guess what! This time, I'm for real! I finished writing the story! Aaaaahhh!

Disclaimer: Tortall doesn't belong to me... sigh.

* * *

The gathering was small, but there were many present that I had never met before. I was feeling better than I had three days before, when the news of the attack had come. Jasson had comforted me, and I him; though he thought it was merely the death of so many soldiers that pained me, and nothing more. When an invitation came from a lordling friend of his, we accepted, mostly to have the company of others with less weight on their shoulders.

I sat down on one of the delicate-looking loveseats and Jasson sat next to me. His hand squeezed my fingers reassuringly, for just a moment, before he let go and became Prince Jasson of Conte.

"Good day to you all. I'm very sorry for my lateness- I had a few business matters to attend to. Now, I'm sure you all have heard of Miss L'Cerisier before. Oh yes, Vi- Miss L'Cerisier, this is Lady Natalia of..."

And so it went. After a few more introductions we all settled round the small coffee table, chatting pleasantly and pretending to be interested in each other's lives.

I leaned in to Jasson and murmured in his ear, "And just what is the purpose of a get together such as this?"

He chuckled quietly. "There is no purpose. Like the balls, it is merely another gathering in which we talk and climb the ladder of nobility. I can see more than one young lady eying me as a potential husband."

At this moment a pretty maid came in with a platter of small pastries, a servant boy trailing behind her, holding a large bowl of dark cherries. I smiled at this. It was strange seeing the results of the summer's labor with my own eyes, de-seeded and de-stemmed and ready to be placed between a lady's plump lips.

Thirty minutes passed before the young lords and ladies became bored chatting with one another. A piano was rolled in from an adjacant room, but before an ably talented servant could be called in to play, Jasson had to open his mouth.

"Why, Violet here can play the piano quite well. I say we should let her show off her abilities a bit before calling in a professional."

I gave him a look, but either he did not notice or pretended not to. Evidently I would have to play.

I walked up to the bench and sat down, then searched my brain for a suitable tune that I knew well enough to not make a fool of myself. At last I settled on one and began to play the light, lilting tune, a country dance. As I played I listened to the small talk continuing around me. The conversation of two ladies near me grabbed my attention.

"-quite shocked! After all, she is of the native heritage, she must feel some sort of sympathy for the wretched things."

"I agree wholeheartedly, Secily. I expected the abolition of slavery to be first on Queen Dovasary's agenda, but apparently not."

"I simply cannot understand why all of the other realms have not followed our example! It really is pointless, and I do so love being able to douse one of the Carthaki or Mar-"

"Shush, Secily! Or have you forgotten where our prince's... consort, hails from?"

This made my lips purse. What was she insinuating?

But the foolhardy Secily continued on her rampage, unaware as to who was listening. "Oh, if it weren't for Prince Jasson's presence I would walk up to her right now and-"

"You would do what, exactly?"

The song stopped abruptly, and I glared at the girl. "Would you tell me off for being born in a slaveholding country?" I kept my voice more or less level (decorum still mattered, even when in a confrontation), but it still pierced through the suddenly silent room.

Secily closed her momentarily gaping mouth and glared back at me. "I was only pointing out how morally wrong slavery is, and how the Eastern and Southern lands would be a much more peaceful place if-"

I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I interrupted her quite plainly. "Has it ever occurred to you where your dresses are made? Who's hands weave the cotton for your handkercheif? Have you ever wondered how the gems for your jewelry are pried from the earth? Whether you like it or not, milady, slavery makes the world go round."

Steam seemed to spill from her ears and nostrils; I had made her very angry, apparently. "It is a crime against humanity! All people are born equal, and therefore should be treated as such in the world! All slaveholders are cruel, dirty, despicable creatures whom I would not allow to shine my shoes in the street!" A small triumphant smile crossed her lips.

At this, I stood up and curtsied to her. In a strained voice I said, "Be assured that I highy value your opinions. If you'll excuse me for a moment." I couldn't take this any longer. I had often struggled with myself about slavery- the collar around Capucine's neck had been a source of pain for me since I had known what it meant. But to be insulted so plainly and openly, I could not stand for it.

I wish I had been able to come up with a witty and diplomatic comeback that would both keep my argument valid and end the matter, but alas, I could think of none, and so I strode quickly to the door and out into the hallway, heading in the direction of the safest, most isolated place I knew of in the palace.

The piano room was deserted. I slid open the glass panel and only when I was well into the garden did I slow my pace. At last I found the bench, and sat down.

I was ashamed of myself. I should have just ignored the girl, kept my opinions to myself. But my temper had seized me, and I had made a fool of myself.

The part that stung most was that I was not confident in my argument. How could it be right to keep another human bound against its will? There was no way to reconcile the two voices squabbling inside of me. And so, I let a few tears escape, until I was sobbing quietly into my hands.

I had thought I was alone. I thought I had wanted to be alone, until I felt a familiar weight around my middle. I curled into Jasson's embrace, burying my face in his shoulder.

I tried to compose myself, to no avail. "H-how did you f-find me?"

"Something told me you would come here. I know I would, if I had a similar experience."

He made me feel so much better, but my conscience still made a racket in my skull, confusing me and giving me a headache.

I shook my head, my nose still pressed into his shoulder. "We're not bad people, Jasson! We're not!" I was reassuring myself more than anything.

He pushed me away just enough so that he could see my (no doubt) tear stained face. His expression and tone were genuinely shocked.

"Of course you're not. You are one of the sweetest creatures I know, and don't you ever let anyone tell you otherwise, Violet."

I could only cry more, as his words reminded me of my cuckoo status. It wasn't just the slaveholding, it was the spying, and the fact the Jasson trusted me and cared for me all the same.

"Secily of Brightleigh is an awful girl, as well. Only gutter rubbish comes out her mouth, regardless of who she's talking to. Don't let her get to you, Vi."

Realizing that his reassurances weren't helping matters, he tried one more thing. Speaking quietly, and lifting my face to look him in the eye, he said, "Besides, Violet, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, because I love you."

He had said it; those three words that I had been both hoping and dreading to hear. I flung my arms around his neck and said, "Oh Jasson, I love you too, but... but..."

Suddenly, he seemed afraid. "But what? Violet? Violet! Spit it out already!"

I sniffed and whispered. "But... I don't deserve it. Your love."

He chuckled, gently, his fear gone. "Now, why would you think such a thing, silly girl?"

I tried to speak, to tell him what I had said, what I had done, what I was still doing, but I couldn't. The words got caught in my throat. After I had hesitated a few seconds, he chuck led again. "See? You're being silly. I love you, and you love me, and that's all that matter s. Now, let's go get you cleaned up, dear heart. We dine with my parents tonight."


	12. Chapter 12

A week after the confrontation with Secily of Brightleigh, there was a masquerade ball for Princess Lianne's birthday. Getting ready for the ball, dressed in a gown with a black velvet bodice, golden vines embroidered along my waist and a bell-shaped skirt rustling with folds of darkest purple and red, I was relieved to be able to put on a mask. Golden vines framed the black velvet mask, and two plumes of red and purple fluttered above my head.

I hadn't told Jasson what I was wearing that night, and the same for him. We wanted to see if we could find each other amid the throng at the ball.

The music was lovely, and everyone looked beautiful and strange, bird's beaks and feathers and masked strangers at every turn. I was casting my eye around for Jasson, when a man clothed in dark blue, his wavy black hair just visible beneath a jaunty hat, approached me. His black mask, in the shape of a bird's beak, covered nearly his entire face. I giggled as Jasson pulled me onto the dance floor.

"You sly thing," I teased. "I should have known you'd be a crow of some sort."

But Jasson just says, "Ssshhhh," and we twirled onto the deserted balcony, out of sight from the rest of the ball.

Leaning against the rail, shivering slightly in the chilly air, I laughed again. I leaned in and half-closed my eyes as he unlaced his mask, but when the beak was removed, I gasped and pulled away, but he held onto me, pinning me against the balcony.

The man who was not Jasson raised an eyebrow. "Please, do not attempt to get away just yet, Miss L'Cerisier." My heart sunk as I hear the man's Marenite accent; polished and posh, but nonetheless, he sounded like home.

"I'll only keep you for a moment, then you can go back to your beloved prince." He had a voice like oil, slimy and disgusting. I look away as he speaks.

"You are not the only Marenite agent in Tortall, miss. You are the only in the palace; that much is true. But we do have ways of watching you, and what we have seen troubles us. You have only sent one letter to the king, and though the information proved to be very useful, you made no mention of your closeness with one of the princes. This, of course, could be attributed to mere maidenly forgetfulness, or," He leaned in closer, and his breath smelt like smoke. "Or, it could be a sign of treason. Now, you have committed no crimes as of yet, but we would simply like to make a confirmation of your loyalty."

Reaching in his cloak, he pulled out a small role of parchment, along with a razor sharp quill. "If you could be so kind as to roll up your sleeve, Miss L'Cerisier?" He didn't wait for me to do so, instead just pushing the velvet up past my elbow himself.

"Now," he began, "repeat after me. 'I, Violet L'Cerisier..."

"What? What is this?"

"I, Violet L'Ceriser... come now, dear, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

I swallowed hard, and repeated. "I, Violet L'Cerisier..."

"Do so solemnly swear..."

"Do so solemnly swear..."

"That I will do whatever King Iven, gracious sovereign of Maren, bids me to..."

"You can't-!"

But as I began to protest, he jabbed the quill up under my chin; not enough to bleed, but enough to remind me of the damage he could inflict with that razor-sharp point.

"That... that I will do... whatever King Iven bi... bids me to."

He smiled a humorless smile. "No matter what the order is."

With dread in my heart, I spoke the words. "No matter what the order is."

"Now, dear, this may hurt a little." And, quickly and efficiently, he stabbed the quill into the crease in my arm, using his free hand to cover my mouth as I cried out. He twisted it, drawing blood, and I whimpered in pain. He held the pen in his teeth as he used a short length of gauze from his cloak to bind the wound.

"Sign here please, Miss L'Cerisier." Though the crease in my arm felt as if it were on fire, I managed to sign my name, and the agent rolled up the parchment, placing it in his cloak.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Miss L'Cerisier." And with that, he was gone.

I slumped against the railing of the balcony, gripping the bound wound with my other hand. I screwed up my eyes against the throbbing pain, and as I breathed in and out, slowly, it dawned on me what just happened.

_I have just signed a blood oath promising to follow the bidding of King Iven_, I thought. _If I do not obey the oath, my blood will boil in my veins until I die._

Footsteps echoed on the tile, and I hastily pulled my sleeve down over the bandage as another man, this time dressed in silvery-grey, a dark-blue mask over his eyes, walked up to me. Warily, I took a step away from him, but he smiled and said, in Jasson's voice, "There you are, love. I've been looking all over for you."

When he reached me I flung my arms around his neck and hugged him, tight, nearly collapsing in his startled embrace. He let out a startled chuckle, then his voice became concerned as he asked, "What's wrong, Vi? Are you alright?"

"I don't feel good at all, Jasson," I whispered. "I think I need to go back to my rooms."

"Violet?" Holding me at arms length, he looked me over. "Has something happened? Are you sick?"

A breathy chuckle escaped my lips. "Maybe I've caught something."

He slid his arm around my waist and led me to a servant's door off the balcony. "Then let's go back to your rooms. My sister is surrounded by admirers, anyway. She won't miss us."

As we walked through the servant's hallway, he said, cheerfully, "Besides, I'd much rather have you all to myself. We can drink sweet cocoa and talk. I do believe the mailcarrier left something for you today, as well."

With that, I became very dizzy, and Jasson had to carry me the rest of the way to the room.

* * *

Grr. So, I had published up to Chapter 16, until I realized that somewhere along the line in Chapter 12, I had switched from past tense to present tense. *frustrated sigh* I apolize if that led to any awkward sentences -.- Thanks for your patience, you guys.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Well, you know the drill.

* * *

The day promised to be unseasonably nice for early February, so Jasson and Liam of Conte, princes of Tortall, decided to take a ride around the grounds, just the two of them.

They had a jolly good time galloping around the meadows which border the royal forest, but at noon they dismounted near a brook, to sit and eat their lunch. As they ate, they talked.

"I noticed that you and Violet left remarkably early last night. Was Violet sick?" Liam asked, biting into a cinnamon roll.

"I think she might have caught something small. But it was the oddest thing, Liam. I looked all over for her, and I finally thought to look on the balcony. I found her there, but she was slumped against the railing, looking very pale and frightened. We began to walk back to her rooms, but she became so dizzy I had to carry her the rest of the way."

"How is she today?"

"I don't know; her maid told me she was still sleeping when I went to check on her this morning. It worries me, Liam."

Liam thought as he took a swig from his flask. He swallowed, then reassured his brother. "I don't think you should worry, Jasson. You know what they say about Marenite ladies, that they are raised to be delicate. She probably just ate something that didn't agree with her."

Jasson sighed. "You're probably right. Still."

Liam agreed. "Still."

* * *

That night, visiting with his father, Liam mentioned Jasson's odd story to the king. As they continued on to other avenues of conversation, the king sat, thinking.

* * *

As the sun just began to appear from behind the horizon, I stood on the plain, shivering in my thin white gown.

Jasson stood twenty feet in front of me, a grim expression on his face. Standing, in a row, on either side of him were archers.

I tried to speak, but no sound escaped my throat. Turning his face away from me, he raised his hand in signal to the archers, and a barrage of arrows flew toward me.

Looking down as bright patches of red bloomed across my gown, I heard cruel, insane laughter behind me.

I turned around to look, to see who was laughing, but I wound up pulling the covers off of me, the cold air shocking me into wakefulness.

The light from the window showed that it was nearly dawn, but after that awful dream I knew that I would not be able to fall asleep again. So I rose out of bed, dashed across the cold stone floor to the desk, then returned to the warmth of my comforter, book in hand.

I passed the time in that way for a good few hours, but too soon I had to get ready, as I was due to have tea with Jasson's sisters at noon.

The girls were lovely, and easy to talk to. I apologized to Lianne for leaving her party early, but she shook her head and assured me that it was alright.

Soon after a maid brought in refreshments, Vania looked at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, Violet, I've heard Jasson mentioning marriage."

Lianne rolled her eyes at her sister, exasperated. "Really, Vania, you have no tact at all."

"Really?" I asked, curious and a bit wary. "What do you mean?"

Smiling, Lianne said, "Well, Violet, we think that it really is our brother's intention to marry you."

I had just taken a bite when she said this, and was attempting to chew and swallow in order to answer her, when there was a knock at the door. The little maid went to open it, revealing the mail carrier, still in his heavy coat.

"Beggin' your pardon, your highnesses, my lady... but this here envelope says it's very urgent, and the Miss's maids told me to bring it straight to her." The man seemed nervous to be in the presence of the princesses; as I was still, even after knowing them for nearly three months.

I rose to take the envelope from the man, thanking him as he bowed and walked quickly out the door. I sat back down and examined the thick, expensive parchment envelope. It was addressed from the Carthaki capitol, and in Vignette's elegant handwriting the word URGENT was written.

"You should go read it in the study, just through that door. Don't worry, we won't eat all the pastries," Lianna told me, chuckling. So I went, tearing the paper with shaking hands.

_Dearest Violet,_

_I am saddened to inform you that our dear brother, Emilo, has been found out. The foolish boy took it upon himself to search the queen's room; or, at least, to attempt to. The Isles' spymaster has taken him in for questioning, and the only reason the Emperor has not done the same with me is due to quick thinking on my part. Nevertheless, I intend to flee for Maren as soon as possible... after all, father could have contracted an awful disease in our absence. I urge you to do the same, as it is only a matter of time before the Tortallan monarchs find out, and question you._

_Of course, with your relationship to the prince, you might be safe._

_With love, Vignette_

I dropped the letter on the desk, as if it were suddenly on fire. Dread numbing my mind, I leaned back in the chair. _I can't leave, _I thought to myself. _I _want_ to stay. I _need_ to stay._


	14. Chapter 14

Though I know that is is foolish, after a long, near-sleepless night of thinking, I decided that I will not leave Tortall. I refused to think on what would happen if, and when, the king and queen received word from the Copper Isles.

Jasson and I were taking a walk on the grounds the next day when a frenzied maid I had never seen before ran up to us, her curly blonde hair falling out of its bun.

"Excuse me, your highness, my lady." It's interesting how people had begun to call me 'my lady' since Jasson began courting me. The girl continued. "My lady, one of your maids has sent me to fetch you. She says she needs to talk to you."

I looked up at Jasson and he smiled. "Go on, love. I'll make my way back to the palace just fine."

I followed the maid, and she led me along a path that ran next to the palace. Just as we turned the corner and Jasson was no longer visible, however, the demure girl shoved me up against the stone wall of the palace with surprising strength, holding me in place.

"Very sorry, Miss, but this information isn't safe in a letter." Her Tortallan accent faded into a Marenite drawl, and I wanted to scream with frustration. Would I ever be left alone? "His majesty would like you to perform one last task before you return to Maren." She reached in her apron pocket, her pretty face unreadable, and pulled out a small vial. "It has been placed upon you to eliminate their majesties and their children. This must be done within three days. Do not forget your oath, Miss L'Cerisier." With that, she closed my fingers around the amber vial and strode away.

The vial was dark amber, just about the size of my little finger. Inside, I could see a thick, viscous liquid, leaving dark marks against the inside of the glass as I tilted it. I held it, gingerly, as if it were about to spontaneously combust. I could not think; I could hardly breath. No, no, no. I couldn't... I couldn't even bear to think of it. The king and queen, the princesses, Liam, and Jasson... they were becoming like a family to me. I could no more consider poisoning them than my siblings, or my father at home.

I was just beginning to consider throwing the vile thing into the river Olorun when a most peculiar feeling came over me, starting in my chest. I felt feverish and hot, and my wrists and neck, more than any other place on my body, increased in heat. The curious thing was, when I pressed my fingers to the blue veins on my wrists, my skin felt normal; cool, even, in the crisp air.

That was when I realized; my blood was heating up, and the pain was growing, urgently.

Almost crying out in pain, I dismissed the plan, closing my fist around the vial. Immediately, the heat faded, and I was left standing there, fear and desperation being pumped through my heart in place of my blood.

* * *

I felt numb as I walked back to my room, and I wanted nothing more than to be alone. Much to my frustration, though, when she saw me Capucine pulled me into my powder room, and the beautification ceremony I had endured so many times before was resumed.

Letje and Olympe were there as well; evidently tonight's entertainment was to be a court affair.

As I sat down on a stool and Amalia began curling my hair with the hot iron, Letje looked down at her lap, and Olympe turned her face away haughtily, her poor maid giving a small cry as the iron slid off Olympe's gold locks, almost burning a hole in the poor girl's apron.

"Nice of you to join us, Violet," Olympe sneered, her tone affected. "I assume you'll be meeting Prince Jasson at the proceedings?"

Murmuring an absent-minded response, I clasped my hands together, ashamed. I had been neglecting my friends these past two months or so; I would have to make up for it.

As the heat from the iron cast a warm glow over my scalp, though, I remembered that I would not have the time to make amends.

After my formal corset had been laced, I slipped away to my room for just a moment, to place the vial carefully under my pillow. I paused at the door and took a deep breath, then went back to Desdemona, Amalie, and Capucine to finish getting ready. Going to a ball, performing for all the courtiers was the last thing I wanted to do tonight; I felt frightened and almost sick, and a sort of numbness dulled my thoughts.

Looking lovely in pale lavender gown, but feeling dreadful, I set out to find Jasson. We entered the ballroom arm in arm, the happy young couple with not a care in the world.

I clung to him nearly all night, not wanting to miss a moment with him, knowing that all too soon I would be separated from him one way or another. Towards the end of the ball, the king and queen called all their children, as well as Jasson and I, onto the raised dais where the thrones rested. With a simple hand gesture, Jonathan halted the music, and began to speak.

"I'm sure you have all wondered at the impromptu nature of this celebration. We would now like to show you what, exactly, we are celebrating. Jasson?"

Jasson pulled me to the front of the dais, and I followed him, confusion registering from behind the fog. What was he doing? I watched, shocked, as he kneeled in front of me and looked up into my face with a gentle expression in his eyes.

"Jasson," I whispered, "what are you doing?"

But he just smiled, and held my hand, and began to speak. I stood, holding onto the anchor of his hand, not sure how to react. "Violet, I was wondering if you might do me the honor of marrying me. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

So simple, yet so honest, and lovely. Under normal circumstances I would have swooned with affection; now I just swooned with the realization of just how cruel irony could be.

But at his words, the numbness that had settled over my frame cleared somewhat, and I blushed furiously, almost beginning to cry. Why must he ask me this now, and in front of the entire court as well? I knew he had a flair for drama, but I never knew it would extend to this!

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Finally, tears running down my face, I nodded, and he stood up, wrapping me in his arms. He kissed me passionately, and I had time to realize again how much I loved him. The tears flowed faster, stronger than before; a veritable flood. Thayet cleared her throat. Jasson pulled away, grinning roguishly, then pulled something out of his pocket. During all this, the court was applauding, and I continued to cry, overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the past twelve hours or so.

Still grinning, Jasson took my hand gently and slipped a ring onto my finger. It was beautiful; like a tiny silver vine wrapped around my finger, four small emeralds like spring buds at the center.

He pulled me close and whispered in my ear, "I love you," and I smiled through my tears, trying to pass them off as tears of joy; which they were, in a strange, backwards sort of way. Here I was, finally getting what I wanted: the love of my life. Getting what my father wanted for me, a noble husband. Jasson had found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and for that, Jonathan and Thayet were glad. But lurking underneath it all, never leaving, was the awful, awful truth.

We twirled back onto the ballroom floor, and I found myself wishing that it could be real; that I could truly spend the rest of my life with rash, passionate, handsome, kind Jasson.

I let my mind wander, daydreaming, but as I do, my wrists pricked again with the slightest bit of heat, reminding me not to daydream too earnestly.

That night as I was sinking into that state between dreams and reality, it occurred to me that I had two choices; one, I could poison Jasson and his family, and live with my pain. Or two, the choice that had not occurred to me before then as something to actually consider, I could ignore Iven's order, and in two days' time die a horrible death as my blood boiled in my veins.

* * *

Review, please!


End file.
